


chasing promises on the horizon

by jennycaakes



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Miller's boyfriend lives, Smoking, minty endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 18:25:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5836108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennycaakes/pseuds/jennycaakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monty may or may not have fallen for Nathan Miller before finding out that Miller had a boyfriend. Who might still be alive out there somewhere. Well, friends is better than nothing. Right?</p><p>Monty's POV, Minty endgame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	chasing promises on the horizon

**Author's Note:**

> I've literally written every variation of the Miller/boyfriend situation, so here's another! Also mostly I wrote from Miller's POV but I wanted to try Monty's this time. Hope I did okay! Minty endgame of course of course.

Monty wasn’t the most _charming_ person that existed. He didn’t have a way with words and he wasn’t particularly suave.

But sometimes, Nathan Miller would look at him and Monty swore he hung the moon himself. That alone was an accomplishment in itself considering Miller barely cracked a smile for the best of reasons. But he’d look at Monty, bright eyes and sly smile, and Monty could melt.

They’d been on the ground for months at this point but it had always been one thing after enough. Monty knew Miller back on the Ark, but only barely. He’d been in Agro Station a lot and they’d tip their heads at each other in recognition. But it wasn’t until Mount Weather did Monty really start to get to know Miller.

He was short with people and angrier than most but he was also fiercely loyal, incredibly determined, and if he set his mind to something he would die doing it if he had to.

Also, Jesus, just look at the guy.

Monty couldn’t believe someone like _that_ would look at him like he did. Miller was all edges, a strong jaw and sharp eyes, but also around Monty he was somehow smooth, attainable, real. God, he was good looking. It was completely unfair.

But things were finally calming down. Evening out. They’d escaped Mount Weather, they’d escaped the Grounders, they were building up a civilization on the ground. Monty couldn’t make excuses for himself anymore. He had to say something or he was going to lose his mind. He spent way too much time thinking about Miller’s mouth (he licked his lips _too_ much and Monty found himself distracted while working on new tech almost constantly) and he needed to do something about it.

It was a sunny afternoon in Arkadia and the delinquents had just been given a hangar all to themselves courtesy of Kane and Abby agreeing that they needed their own space to work. It wasn’t just for hanging out (though to be fair they’d probably be doing that a lot) but a space to create. Raven needed a lab, so did Monty, and together they could create and build things that would help better all of Arkadia. They were moving their things in and Miller had just gone off to grab another box of random wires and such and Monty perked up, planning to follow him.

Bellamy grabbed the hem of his shirt before he could dart after him. “What?” Monty asked.

“Where’re you going?” Bellamy challenged.

“I was going to help Nate,” Monty said quickly. Bellamy let go of Monty’s shirt and arched a curious dark eyebrow at him. “Miller,” Monty corrected half-heartedly. “With the boxes.”

“Mm-hm…” Bellamy trailed off. A small, sad smile took Bellamy’s face. “You know he has a boyfriend, yeah?” Monty let Bellamy’s words wash over him before letting out a short breath. “Taking that as a no?”

Monty frowned. His eyebrows came together as he cast a glance in Miller’s direction who was muttering something angry at Raven while Raven rolled her eyes at him.

“No he… since when?”

“Since we lived in space,” Bellamy answered. “From Agro. He’s holding out hope.” Ah, that explained why Miller was in Agro all the time. Monty’s frown deepened. “We were talking about it the other night. And I see how you look at him sometimes, Monty. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Half of Monty was super annoyed that Bellamy was acting like a dad again, but the other half of him was grateful. He wrinkled his nose at Bellamy who was still offering him a sad smile.

“Yeah, okay,” Monty finally said. There were a lot of questions he wanted to ask. Like, _do I really look at him different?_ Or, _did Miller bring up his boyfriend himself or did you push him?_ And even, _how the hell do I look at him?_ “I mean—yeah,” Monty said. He smiled a little too brightly and Bellamy shook his head at him. “No, of course.”

“Monty,” Bellamy started, but Monty shook his head.

To be fair, he shouldn’t have expected much. Miller was, well, infinitely out of Monty’s league. And after the block that went up between Jasper and him after the irradiation of the mountain, things had been tending not to work out in Monty’s favor. He understood. The universe was a bitch, sometimes.

“Gonna grab more boxes,” Monty said before running off.

* * *

Unfortunately, Monty had to start hoping that Miller’s boyfriend was still alive.

Okay, that sounds awful. It wasn’t like Monty _wanted_ Miller’s boyfriend to be dead. Absolutely not. That would suck for all parties involved and neither Miller nor the boyfriend whose name Monty had yet to learn deserved that amount of suck. But sometimes it was just easier to think that none of the other stations had made it because _false hope_ tended to be more harmful than acceptance.

But Monty was from Agro Station too. So if Agro Station had landed safely, Monty’s parents should still be out there somewhere. And that meant Miller’s boyfriend should still be out there too.

So instead of the maybe-acceptance that everyone was dead (because that’s how it ended up half the time anyway), Monty had to hope that Agro had made it. Because he really missed his mom. And while Bellamy was a great father-figure (sort of? Not really), Monty wanted his real dad.

Monty had a tendency to wake up early. He didn’t sleep very well and being on earth, actually using the sun, had him out of bed early. He liked watching the sunrise and listening to the birds chirping. For a moment before everyone else was awake things were incredibly peaceful. The world was sprinkled in golden light and the air was still. Monty could believe they hadn’t been through a few wars, that they hadn’t lost too many people. If he tried hard enough he could even pretend that Clarke was still here, sleeping, preparing for a long day in medical.

He started off for the dining hall where some cooks were up and already preparing breakfast. That was when he found Miller with a chipped mug in his hands, sitting at a table by himself while he sipped at his drink. Monty quickly crossed the nearly-empty room before lowering himself in the seat beside Miller who turned in greeting and smiled just a little.

“Good morning,” Monty said.

“Speak for yourself.” Miller took a long sip of his drink that smelled like instant coffee from the Ark. “I hate morning shifts,” he murmured, blinking hard as though he had gunk in his eyes. Monty couldn’t help but smile. Miller was wearing his guard uniform, one that had been fitted to him so he didn’t look like a small child in his dad’s oversized gear. He rubbed at his eyes another time before offering the mug to Monty wordlessly, which Monty accepted just the same and took a sip. He wasn’t the biggest fan of coffee but drinking it from Miller’s cup made him want to start a coffee fan club. “Bellamy says we’ve got a trade agreement in the works,” Miller said as Monty drank from his friend’s mug. “To apparently get real coffee.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Sounds _heavenly_ ,” Miller corrected. Monty’s smile grew as he passed the mug back. “You remember the first time it rained?” Miller asked.

Monty nodded. “Of course.” It was the first time Monty actually felt like he was alive. He’d been so thirsty then and so hot, and then it was _pouring_. The rain was heavy and cold and it soaked him to the bone. It was the first time Monty wasn’t _afraid_ to be on earth.

“Pretty sure that’s what fresh coffee will taste like,” Miller told him. Monty was absolutely grinning now. “What’re you doing up, anyway?”

“I like watching the sunrise,” Monty told him. A small smile took hold of Miller’s face before he lifted the mug to take another sip of his coffee. “What’s that look for?”

Miller shook his head and averted his eyes. “Nothing.” Monty had to clench his teeth together to keep his smile from splitting his face in half. “What’re you doing this afternoon?” Miller asked.

Monty felt his heart do a funny thing in his chest. “What? Why?”

Arching an eyebrow Miller set his mug down on the table. “When’s the last time you did target practice?” Miller asked. Ah, so, not a date. _Boyfriend_ , Monty reminded himself. No dates ever were in his future.

“I’m not a big fan of guns,” Monty admitted.

Miller shrugged. “Join the club. I fucking hate them. I’m still one of the best shots we’ve got.” Monty didn’t know that. He tried to convey that with his face, and Miller seemed to understand. He averted his eyes and picked up his mug again that was almost empty. “My dad was the one who wanted me to be a guard,” Miller admitted, his eyes somewhere else. “Back on the Ark. I didn’t want to do it. But we _need_ guards down here. And if I’m good at it, might as well keep doing it.”

“Well I’m not good at it,” Monty said. “I do other stuff.”

“Yeah, yeah, Prodigy Green, I get it.”

A laugh escaped Monty. “Did you just call me _Prodigy Green?_ ”

Miller smirked into his cup. “Shut up.”

“You can call me Prodigy Green if I can call you Grumpy Miller.”

Miller snorted. “That is _not_ happening,” Miller said.

“Sleepy Miller?”

“Better, but no.”

“ _One-Of-The-Best-Shots-We-Have_ Miller?”

“Fuck off, Monty,” Miller said with a laugh, his mouth curling into a smile. Monty, too, was smiling. He reached over to grab the cup from Miller’s hands so he could have another sip. “Back to what I was saying,” he said a little forcefully after licking his lips, though that smile was still on his face, “I can take you shooting if you want. I’m a pretty good teacher.” Monty made a sort of puckering thoughtful face, and Miller was still smiling. He shook his head at him as though he couldn’t believe Monty even existed. “I just think everyone should know how to shoot.”

“I never said I don’t know _how_ to shoot a gun. I said I’m not a big _fan_ of guns.”

“How’s your aim?”

“Not the point.”

Miller laughed another time. “You’re hopeless.”

“Hopeless Green,” Monty said before taking another drink of Miller’s coffee. “Doesn’t have as nice of a ring as Prodigy Green, honestly.”

“Give me that,” Miller said, taking his coffee back. Again, still smiling. Damn it, Monty was on fire this morning. “I’m taking you shooting today,” Miller said. “Noon. Clear your schedule.”

“Yes sir, Lieutenant Miller.”

Miller’s face lit up in a laugh, “Fuck off, Monty!”  

* * *

Before actually heading out, Monty wasn’t sure what target practice really entailed. He hadn’t practiced shooting ever since they were back at the dropship and couldn’t really remember. Mostly they just stood in a line and fired at little cans that Bellamy had set up. But this was one on one, and Monty was uncharacteristically nervous. But, okay, Miller always made him a little nervous. Miller _touching_ Monty made him a lot nervous.

Which is what was currently happening. Miller had one hand on Monty’s back, helping him with his stance, and the other on his arm. And Monty was missing every shot. Because, what the hell? Miller was _touching_ him. Miller _had_ to know that he was annoyingly attractive and him being this close to Monty would cause his wires to get all frayed and sparky.

But still after every shot Miller would nod. “Better. Try again,” he’d say.

Soon Miller let Monty do it on his own and, of course, his aim improved when he didn’t feel Miller’s warm breath fanning across his neck and wasn’t constantly thinking _he has a boyfriend he has a boyfriend he has a boyfriend_ on repeat like a freaking mantra.

After an hour or so they cleaned up their mess and headed back to camp. They walked a bit before Monty asked, “Does Grumpy Miller approve of my progress?”

“Don’t call me that,” Miller said with a little laugh. “I just think everyone should be able to shoot. Especially you because you come out with us a lot.” Monty nodded his head and handed the gun off to him, allowing Miller to swing the strap over his shoulder with the gun on his back. “Besides,” Miller said, his voice getting uncharacteristically softer. “I wanted to see how you were doing.” Monty turned, confused, and Miller lifted his shoulders in a little shrug. “With everything.”

“You had to take me shooting to ask how I’m doing?” Monty asked.

Miller managed a smile. “Didn’t want anyone eavesdropping,” he murmured. “I know Jasper’s been… bad. And Bellamy—he handles it in his own way. Same with Reyes. But I feel like no one worries about you.”

Monty felt surprise bubbling in his chest. “You _worry_ about me?”

“Don’t sound so shocked.” Miller knocked his elbow against Monty’s. “Are you? Okay?” Monty looked at Miller again, reading the concern on his face, before looking away. His eyes found the ground and he shrugged halfheartedly. “Jordan’s been a fucking dick to you,” Miller muttered. “I swear I’m going to deck him one of these days.” Monty pressed his lips together feeling grateful. “What happened at Mount Weather was… big. I just want to know you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” Monty said quietly. He struggled with sleeping, and he wished Jasper didn’t look at him as though he’d personally irradiated the mountain (though Monty knew his hand in it was vital), and sometimes it was all he could think about. But Monty had an active mind and a purpose to keep moving forward, so he was surviving. “Thanks for asking.”

Miller was quiet another moment before saying, “I’m not the best. At having those conversations. But if you need someone to listen.”

Monty found himself staring at Miller’s lips before forcing his eyes back up. “Thanks, Nate,” Monty said. “I really appreciate it.”

Miller offered another smile and nodded his head once. Monty decided that it was a good day.

* * *

“No, not that wire,” Monty said, directing Miller’s fingers to a different one. “Yeah, that there.” Miller dragged a knife up, cutting the wire, and Monty grinned. “Perfect. Looks like you’re good for something after all.”

Miller snorted, looking up at Monty who was beside him with that classic _only-you-can-make-me-smile_ smile that Monty was annoyingly fond of.

They were in their hangar taking apart one of the old sets of the Ark that wasn’t necessary for use anymore and Miller had expressed an interest in seeing how things worked. Monty jumped on the opportunity. _You helped me with my aim_ , he’d said. _Let me help you with this_. That’s how they ended up there, sitting awfully close on two separate stools, hunched over a jumble of wires and circuit boards.

“It just doesn’t work in my brain,” Miller said as he set the knife down. They probably should’ve been using wire cutters, but whatever. “Mechanics, and shit. I tried my hardest to get a grip in classes but I just…” he shook his head. “Not my thing.”

“It’s not for everyone,” Monty said with a little shrug. He took the parts into his hands and lifted them to his line of vision trying to see what step to take next in pulling it apart. “What was your favorite subject on the Ark?” he asked. When Miller didn’t answer, Monty looked up at him. Miller was pressing his lips together with a different sort of smile, a nervous sort of smile. “Nate?” he said with a little laugh.

“You’ll make fun of me,” Miller said.

Monty couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. “I will not,” he said, but he might. “What was it?”

With a deep breath Miller said, “English history.”

Monty arched an eyebrow. “History,” he echoed.

“ _English_ history,” Miller emphasized. “Not the—not the kind of history Bellamy’s into. But like…” he trailed off, smiling that embarrassed smile again. “Shakespeare. And Shelley. And Rowling. And Plath.” Miller looked elsewhere as though he was thinking about the books, the crisp paper in his hands, or maybe reading them from a tablet of sorts. He was from Alpha after all, they had more access to that stuff. “The Ark was small. Books were…”

“Endless?” Monty suggested.

“Infinite,” Miller agreed. “Even now, being on earth doesn’t compare sometimes.” Monty quickly turned back to his equipment and Miller nearly groaned. “I knew you’d think it was stupid,” he said. “Not all of us can be hard-wired for… wires.”

“Smooth,” Monty said with a grin. He was still focusing on the metal in his hands. Risking a look at Miller might cause Monty to spontaneously combust because this was the most adorable piece of information Monty could have ever learned. His entire chest was warm. “I don’t think it’s stupid, I think it’s great.” Miller made a noise sort of like a whine of disapproval. “I do,” Monty continued. “It’s cute.”

Miller sounded incredulous. “Cute?”

“Mm-hm,” Monty hummed. Miller scoffed. “I agree with you,” Monty said. “We’re not all hard-wired for _wires._ Reading stresses me out. Tinkering doesn’t. We’re just built differently.” He smiled at his friend. “It’s nice, is all. We need _poets_ just as much as we need engineers, I think.”

“Liking poetry doesn’t make a poet,” Miller told him. And then, “If you tell anyone, I’ll probably never forgive you.”

Monty lit up in amusement. “Oh really?” Miller was still smiling slightly but he did sound serious. “Come on, Nate, your secret’s safe with me.” Monty began to tinker more, both of them still smiling. “Which is your favorite?” Monty asked. “Out of everything you’ve read?”

Miller’s smile widened for the thousandth time and Monty felt like he was on top of the world.

“You sure you want to get me started?” Miller asked.

“Absolutely,” Monty said with a nod.

“Well it depends on the genre we’re talking about,” Miller began, and Monty knew he was in for a long conversation.

* * *

Monty watched Gina pouring him and Miller drinks, trying to figure her out. He didn’t know her very well but Raven spoke highly of her, and Bellamy had been… happier, since he started talking to Gina every morning. It was strange seeing Bellamy a little love-struck but Monty wanted Bellamy to be happy. It wasn’t his fault that Clarke hightailed it out of there after the mountain, he deserved some action. But still, Monty didn’t know Gina and didn’t know what to think about her.

“On the house,” she told the boys before nudging the drinks across the counter to them.

Monty looked impressed, and Miller winked. After Gina was gone Miller turned to him. “She’s trying to get in Bellamy’s good graces,” he murmured before lifting his cup and taking a quick drink. “More than she already is, or whatever. I don’t mind a free drink.”

“Me neither,” Monty admitted. He tipped back a small sip of moonshine. “Besides, I made this.”

“Prodigy Green strikes again.” Monty made a face and Miller instantly stopped him. “I’m just kidding,” he said. “Sort of.” He tipped back another drink and Monty smiled.

God, he liked Nathan Miller.

They’d decided to get drinks after Raven and Octavia had a screaming match in the hangar. Thinking back Monty couldn’t even remember what it was about, but the loudness of it had been too heavy and Bellamy’s sharp, demanding voice telling them to short their shit out somewhere else was still ringing in Monty’s ears. It was Miller who practically dragged him from the hangar, saying that they needed to forget about it because Octavia and Raven would be okay in a day or two like they always were. So there they were, sitting at the bar, Miller drinking his moonshine.

And Monty sat back for a moment just thinking about how much he _liked_ Nathan Miller. A lot. So freaking much.

Ever since Bellamy had told Monty that Miller had someone else, Monty knew not to get his hopes up. And still he hung on every word that Miller said, savored every smile that was shot in his direction. Jesus, Monty felt like he was going to implode every time Miller licked his lips, or rolled his eyes, or snarked at someone. It was out of control. And he had to control it. Because while he liked Miller, he also liked being friends with Miller.

That was why he said, “So Bellamy told me you have a boyfriend.”

Miller had been about to put his drink down but quickly lifted it again, taking a bigger drink of the clear liquid before lowering the glass back to the counter. He looked stressed by Monty’s statement.

“I mean, I guess,” Miller said.

“You guess?”

Miller shrugged, looking down at his glass. “It’s been _months_ ,” he said. Miller shrugged again, shaking his head. “Yeah. I don’t know. I guess.” He lifted one of his hands to rub at his face. “Yeah.”

“We don’t have to—I was just making conversation, Nate.”

“No, yeah, I know. It’s weird to think about sometimes. Hard, I guess.” Monty nodded, he knew that feeling. “You’re from there, right? I remember seeing you in Agro a lot.” Monty nodded again. “So you’re probably hoping Agro’s still out there, too.” Monty nodded another time. Miller took a deep breath, tipping his glass back so he could look at the amount of moonshine he had left. “I miss him,” Miller admitted in a low voice.

Monty could relate. He missed his parents a lot too. It was hard, never knowing if they were alive or dead, if they were thinking of him too.

And while Monty didn’t _exactly_ want to talk about this, he wanted to be there for Miller like Miller had been there for him. “Tell me about him?” Monty asked.

Monty was honestly surprised when Miller started talking. He never gave a name but Monty didn’t mind. He didn’t really want one. According to Miller, whoever he was he was tall. Older. “Might be 21 now,” he admitted. “I can’t remember when his damn birthday is.” Thick brown hair that always needed to be cut but never wanted to get it cut. Bright blue eyes, like the oceans they could see from space. Big hands. The kind of pale skin that would burn easily under the sun. “Made me feel like I could do anything I set my mind to.”

It might’ve been the most Monty had ever heard Miller talk. And even though it was about someone else, Monty loved listening to him talk. Miller’s voice was deep but passionate, hesitant but sincere. Monty was sure he wouldn’t have spoken this much if he hadn’t had any moonshine, but Miller _had_ had moonshine and was still going on and on and on.

“I get worried, sometimes,” Miller admitted toward the end of the night. “It’s petty, stupid shit, but…” he trailed off, shaking his head as though there was a thought that he wanted to get out. “I’m worried that he’s still out there, but he’s found someone else. That he couldn’t wait for me like I’m waiting for him.”

And maybe it was the moonshine that got Monty to say, “He’d be stupid to not wait for you.” Or maybe it was just the truth.

* * *

Miller had always looked at Monty a little differently.

But after that night at the bar, Miller was looking at Monty _a lot_ differently. Monty could feel Miller’s gaze on him from a mile away. His eyes were lighter, brighter. His smiles were more common. Monty didn’t mind. Not at all. He absolutely loved it.

But Bellamy…

“You’ve got to decide what kind of person you’re going to be,” Bellamy said to Monty one night. He’d just gotten in a fight with Octavia and Gina had said she couldn’t be with him that night because she worked, so Bellamy was in a piss-poor mood. And he’d entered the hangar to find Monty and Miller hunched over a table, working with a circuit board and laughing about something or other. Miller had guard duty so he left shortly after, and that was when Bellamy sat him down. “You know he has someone.”

Monty nodded slowly, curiously. “I know,” he said, dragging out the words. “We’re friends, Bellamy.”

“He’s probably struggling,” Bellamy forced out, not really looking at Monty. “Wondering if he should wait. Or if he should go after what’s right in front of him. And that’s—it’s hard.” Immediately Monty had a feeling that Bellamy wasn’t exactly talking about Miller. But he let Bellamy talk anyway. “I just don’t want either of you getting hurt,” Bellamy settled with a sigh. “Okay?”

“Sure, Bellamy.”

“We deserve some good shit though,” Bellamy said before dragging his hands through his hair. “Right? If that’s what makes him happy…”

Monty let the silence hang in the air for a few moments before shifting in his seat. “Bellamy?” he asked. Bellamy didn’t respond vocally, though his eyes found Monty across the room. “You okay?”

Bellamy let out a small breath of air. “Yeah, Monty. I’m fine.”

* * *

Agro Station had survived.

One minute Monty was painfully aware that Nathan Miller was _serenading him_ , and the next they found the Farm Station.

After that was the Ice Nation. And Clarke, or Wanheda, or whoever she was now (though she’d _always_ be Clarke to Monty). And then a week and a half had passed and Monty was back at Arkadia, waiting for the convoy from Farm Station that Raven and Octavia had set up to arrive. Monty was nervous.

Clarke was in medical sleeping, getting fluids, getting all of her wounds looked at. And Farm Station was almost there. And it felt like maybe things were finally turning out to be okay. There was maybe a war on the horizon, but Monty would see his parents soon and at the moment that was all that mattered.

Miller was standing by his side, his fingers drumming on the side of his leg as he looked into the distance. “You ready?” Miller asked.

“Not really.”

“Me neither.” He looked nervous, and even at a time like this Monty couldn’t stop himself from thinking how cute Miller was. Especially as he fidgeted with his shirt, stood on his tiptoes to look into the distance, and licked his lips again and again. “I see them,” he suddenly said.

After the words escaped his mouth everyone in the crowd that was waiting began to speak. Their murmurs of excitement turned into shouts and soon the large busses that had been found in an abandoned garage that Raven had fixed up were chugging toward them.

It happened frame by frame. The busses stopping. The doors opening. The people filing out. Monty’s eyes were frantic, scanning face after face in the crowd before he heard a shout. It sounded inhuman and desperate and he whipped his head around to find his mother sprinting toward him. Everything rushed into one instantaneous moment before he was sprinting too, and he and his mom collided forcefully.

There were tears and there was laughter and he was in his mother’s arms, strong and safe and happier than he could ever remember. She cradled his face in her hands and kissed his forehead and used her thumbs to wipe below his eyes. They were hurdling questions back and forth at one another, the Greens had a problem of constantly talking over one another, and somehow they both managed to get out very shortened versions of their stories. _Crash landed, constant struggle against the Azgeda, too scared to search outside, lots of farming to stay alive, overall not too bad. Grounders were scary but we survived, mountain was scary but we survived, been searching for you ever since_. And then there was more hugging and more crying and everything felt right, everything felt right.

It wasn’t until after they pulled apart and the world settled in was Monty jolted. “Dad?” he asked.

Monty’s mom smiled. “The chancellor wanted to talk to him,” she said softly. “He wanted to look for you but you know how he is.”

“Duty calls,” Monty said with a grin. Monty’s dad was just as into engineering as he was and was absolutely phenomenal at whatever he set his mind too. Monty couldn’t wait to run some new ideas by him.

He turned, then, to look across everyone else reuniting. Monty wasn’t looking for Miller intentionally but his eyes found him right away.

He was standing a few feet away from a boy, _Briar,_ Monty thought, able to identify him now that he’d seen him. They did both live in Agro after all, and the Ark was only so big. And Miller didn’t look as happy as Monty’d anticipated. In fact, he wasn’t smiling at all. His eyes were dark and his shoulders were tight.

Briar was holding hands with someone else. A boy just as tall, just as handsome. Their fingers were laced together tightly. And Briar was talking, saying something to Miller who was clenching his jaw so tightly Monty watched a muscle flutter in his cheek. And then Miller nodded stiffly, and then he marched away.

* * *

After finding his father and going through another round of hugs and tears and laughter, Monty honestly felt like he could float away. Gravity was the only thing holding him down because of how happy he was.

Alas, both of his parents were geniuses. So like earlier they were whisked off by Abby and Kane to talk strategy, equipment, movement into the future. Monty didn’t mind. Now that he knew his parents were safe, that they were both here and alive, he knew he had plenty of time to catch up and spend with them. They’d been given a room inside the structure of Arkadia rather than out in tent city that led up to Main Street and Monty would be joining them later.

With a pep in his step Monty headed for the hangar. His fingers were itching to tinker and his mind was racing. But he was barely down the hallway before he heard a loud, angry voice that caused him to pause.

It was Miller. And Miller could be angry sometimes but it was never like _this_.

“—introduce me to your fucking _boyfriend_!” he’d growled. “Because that’s what I want to do after not seeing you for months—meet your _new boyfriend_ in the first five minutes!”

“Nate, _calm down_ ,” Briar was saying. “You’re overreacting.”

“I’m overreacting?” Miller carried on angrily, louder. “I’m _overreacting_?”

“Yes, Nate! You are!”

“And how else did you expect me to react?” Miller snapped. But behind it Monty could hear the pain. The sadness. Miller’s voice was thick with feelings he was trying to hide and Monty’s heart was breaking for him. He remembered seeing Briar holding hands with another boy earlier but for some reason the direction things had turned didn’t click for him. “I waited for you for _months_!”

Briar was just as loud as he was, “I never asked you to _wait for me_! I never would’ve _expected_ you to, Nate!”

Monty pressed his back against the wall and took a deep breath. He shouldn’t be listening. He should absolutely not be listening. So he turned away from the hangar and strode away without looking back.

* * *

Monty found Miller a short time later. He was sitting by the fire pit with his head in his hands, breathing slowly, as though the world had stopped spinning and he wasn’t sure what to do next. The sun had already set but there were still some vibrant reds in the sky. Stars were peeking out of the dark purples and blacks that followed. Monty walked up to him and tapped his shoulder, causing Miller to look up. He looked… miserable.

“C’mon,” Monty said.

Miller frowned. “Where?”

“Just come on,” Monty said. He jerked his head and with a tired, hopeless sigh, Miller stood to follow him. His feet were dragging. “Don’t make me call you Grumpy Miller,” Monty warned. Miller’s face didn’t change, his eyebrows still heavy and together. He couldn’t even bring himself to say something sharp or witty. This was awful. Monty felt awful.

He didn’t try and make small talk. Miller wouldn’t have said anything anyway. But Monty led him outside of the gates of Arkadia into the field that stretched endlessly before reaching the woods. Miller frowned as Monty lowered himself down to the ground but eventually he sat beside Monty as well. There was a little bit more silence before Monty pulled a blunt out of his pocket. Miller’s eyes found it at once and his frown deepened.

“I’ve never smoked before,” Miller said. Most people hadn’t. The medical marijuana on board the Ark was meant for, well medicine and people with chronic pain. Not a bunch of teenagers. But ever since landing on the ground Monty had found a few plants and gotten it to work. The high was nice. And for someone who sucked at sleeping, smoking sometimes made that easier. Monty dug around for a match before lighting the blunt and inhaling deeply, holding the smoke in his lungs before exhaling a puff of smoke. Miller watched curiously. “When’d you start?” he asked.

“I was fourteen,” Monty told him. A sly smile snuck onto his face. “My, uh, dad showed me how.” He could’ve been floated for it but Father Green was good at sneaking around. Monty and Jasper, two teenagers who just liked the high… not so much. “You want to try?” Miller hesitated but eventually reached out for the blunt. “You’ve got to hold it in your lungs,” Monty said. “But it’ll—it might burn at first.”

Miller looked at the blunt before exhaling deeply and lifting it to his lips. He took in a small puff and then he was coughing, holding the blunt out for Monty to take back.

“ _Jesus_ , Green,” Miller forced out. Monty was trying not to smile.

“Sorry. I warned you. Kind of.” Miller was still coughing and Monty took another quick hit. “Try not to cough. Or you’ll never stop. Just breathe in.” Miller swallowed back another cough and struggled to inhale but his chest still shook every once in a while. “Yeah, there you go.” Monty took another hit and Miller blinked through watery eyes, watching him exhale the smoke into the night air. “Sorry,” Monty said another time. “Thought it might help.”

Miller swallowed roughly. “Kind of just feel worse now,” he muttered. But still his hand reached out for the blunt and Monty passed it over.

“Not as fast,” Monty warned. This time after Miller lowered the blunt he didn’t cough, but he did breathe out the smoke pretty quickly before passing it back over. They sat quietly for a moment, passing it back and forth, before Monty finally cleared his throat. “Want to talk about it?”

Miller was silent. Thinking. Eventually he shook his head slightly. “I don’t think so,” he said. He reached for the blunt and took another hit before sighing. “Maybe.”

Monty decided to lay out then, stretching backwards on the field with his hands behind his head. “I’m all ears,” he said.

Miller nodded ever so slightly. “I know.” He took another hit. “Just makes me wonder if I’m not good enough,” he muttered. Monty felt his chest get tight. Nathan Miller, _not good enough?_ He was rude sometimes, and snappy, and okay sometimes he was hard to handle. But not good enough? Absolutely not. He was fiercely loyal and secretly kind and cared _so much_ and endlessly brave and holy crap, Monty could make an entire bulleted list for him if he needed it.

“How long did he wait?” Monty asked.

Miller scoffed. “I’m not sure if he did.” Shaking his head he added, “I didn’t ask. Scared of the answer.” Monty nodded and Miller lowered himself to the ground beside Monty. The sun had set completely then and it was pretty dark. They weren’t too terribly far from camp so every now and then a loud sound would carry over the fence. The sound of laughter, or of pots clattering, or a horse’s whinny. “What do you think?” Miller asked roughly. His voice was scratchy, probably from the pot. “Am I fucking idiot, or what?”

Monty reached over to grab the blunt. “I already told you,” Monty said. It was weeks ago at this point, but whatever. “I said he’d be stupid not to wait for you.”

Miller sighed loudly as Monty took another hit. They were nearing the end of the blunt. “I don’t know.”

“What’s there to know, Nate?” Miller tipped his head to look at Monty then who was staring up at the stars in the sky. “You deserve someone who’ll wait—someone who—”

“I like that,” Miller cut him off. Monty turned his head to look at Miller too. “When you call me Nate.” Monty’s lips parted, unsure how to respond. The gentle hum of Miller’s voice was surprising. “It sounds nice.”

Finally Monty smiled. “I think you’re high.”

“I can’t tell.”

Monty’s smiled widened. “Feels like static,” Monty suggested. “In your veins.”

Miller finally cracked a smile then. “Okay. Maybe.” Miller licked his lips and Monty quickly pulled the blunt back up to his mouth to distract himself. “But that’s got nothing to do with it.” He offered it to Miller who accepted it, taking another hit before passing it back. After Monty tried again he declared it dead, smashing the end out on the ground before tossing the blunt aside. “This whole time, Monty, you’ve always said the right thing.”

Monty pressed his lips together to keep himself from smiling. He was pretty sure he was high, too. If anything it made him feel sleepy, at peace. “Yeah?”

“Mm.”

Monty readjusted himself on the ground so his arm by Miller was hanging by his side, and Monty propped his other arm up behind his head. Miller was laying in almost the exact way, slightly curled to Monty’s side.

“That’s probably because I like you,” Monty said simply. Miller smiled, that knowing smile, and Monty wanted to laugh. “You knew that though, I’m sure.”

“Absolutely,” Miller said with a nod. “Bellamy told me not to lead you on.”

“He did?”

“Frequently.” Monty _did_ laugh then. Miller turned more on his side so he could look Monty in the eyes. “Did I? Lead you on?” he asked.

Monty shook his head. “No.”

“You sure?”

Monty shrugged. “I knew you had someone else. I was okay with that. Sort of.”

“Sort of,” Miller echoed quietly. They were silent for a few moments. Monty was caught between being happy things hadn’t worked out with the boyfriend and feeling awful for Miller. Because he didn’t deserve that. No one deserved that. Miller deserved to be happy, deserved someone who’d wait for him. But also Monty couldn’t stop himself from getting his hopes up. Because of how close Miller was. Because of the things Miller was saying. Because of the way Miller smiled at him. “I haven’t felt like this in months,” Miller murmured.

His arm was pressed against Monty’s. Their fingers were brushing. A small smile took Monty’s face as he turned to look at his friend. “That’d be the pot, Nate.”

Miller turned his head and Monty was immediately aware of how close to one another they were. Inches. Monty could feel Miller’s breath. “I think it might be you, actually,” Miller said softly. His eyes were hazy and intense all at once. “God, I want you,” he breathed. Monty felt his mouth go dry, and it wasn’t because of the pot. But Miller was high, so maybe—he couldn’t mean… “But I don’t know,” Miller murmured, “if it’s because I feel like shit, or if I’ve wanted you this whole fucking time.”

“Maybe it’s the pot,” Monty choked out. It had to be the pot.

“Maybe it’s all of the above.”

And when Miller suddenly tipped his head slightly forward, brushing his lips against Monty’s, Monty swore the world stopped for a minute. His veins were humming and soon he was kissing Miller back. He was kissing Nathan Miller. He was _kissing. Nathan Miller._ One of his hands was still tucked behind him propping him up in the grass but the other had swung up to cradle the back of Miller’s head and pull him closer. Next thing he knew Miller had propped himself up too, leaning down over Monty and kissing him hard, needy, perfectly.

“Nate,” Monty rasped, trying to pull back after a moment. But Miller’s lips kept moving. First against Monty’s, but then against Monty’s chin, his jaw, his throat. “ _Nathan_ ,” Monty gasped. “Stop, _stop_ …” Finally Miller pulled back, his eyes hooded and his mouth parted. “Wow I want to,” Monty said. “You’ve no idea how bad I want to. So bad. Really, really bad.”

Miller’s voice was surprised, “Really?” As though Monty hadn’t just admitted he liked him. As though this was completely new information.

“ _Really_ , really. But—you said—you just said—”

Miller dropped his head slightly and because of the angle Monty could feel his lips on his throat. “I know, I know, I know.” Monty’s eyes fell shut. God, he could melt. He _was_ melting, probably. He’d dissolved under Nathan Miller’s hands and couldn’t think of a better way to go. “I know,” Miller breathed another time. “You’re right. I don’t want you to be a rebound.”

“Me neither,” Monty breathed. “Even if I also really want to be a rebound in this moment. Really bad.”

Miller tipped his head back up, that awful magnificent grin of his on his face. “Really?” he asked again.

“Really, really,” Monty repeated. Miller was still hovering off Monty, ready to collapse against him. “But I think you’re high, Nate, and—like—screw that guy, yeah?”

“God,” Miller groaned, lowering himself back against Monty’s throat. “I don’t even want to think about him.” No, Miller was definitely high. Monty knew that because Miller added, “I just want to think about you.” Monty couldn’t stop smiling. “You make me feel like this all the time,” he carried on in a quiet voice. “But I couldn’t…”

He’d made a promise to someone. A commitment. And Miller couldn’t move on, move past that until he was sure.

“I know, Nate,” Monty murmured. He lifted his hand, fingers running down the back of Miller’s neck. “I understand. But you still need time.” Miller sighed deeply but nodded again. Eventually he rolled off of Monty but stayed close. He reached out his hand so he could tangle their fingers together.

Definitely high. But whatever.

Monty didn’t even care.

* * *

The next morning Monty was up with the sun, as per usual.

He walked around camp before situating himself on a nice bench near the dining hall. It was facing outwards, towards the woods and away from the mountain, and it was nice to watch the sky get brighter and brighter. Monty hadn’t been there long when someone lowered themselves in the seat beside him. He turned to find Miller with a chipped mug in his hands extended in Monty’s direction almost like a peace offering.

Monty _really_ did not like coffee. But he accepted it with a smile and took a tiny sip.

“I, uh,” Miller shifted in the seat beside Monty, a little too far away. Not even their knees were bumping. But still he was sitting beside him and Monty was running on the high from last night that had nothing to do with pot. “I remembered that you like sunrises.” Monty tried not to smile but he couldn’t stop. He sipped on the coffee before passing it back to Miller. “How is it?” he asked.

“The sunrise, or the coffee?”

“Both.”

“Sunrise is always nice,” Monty told him as Miller took a big drink of the brown liquid. “Reminds me that it’s a new day.” Miller smiled a little bit at that. “The coffee is horrible. I hate coffee.”

Miller scoffed. “Since when? You always drink mine.” Monty made a sort of face as to say: _Obviously. Put it together, you attractive idiot_. Miller looked away and tried to shake away the smile that was growing on his face. “Ah, never mind.” Miller took a big drink of the coffee before lowering it to his lap. “Monty,” he said firmly. “About last night.”

Monty looked over at him. There was a bubble of doubt rising in his chest but Monty couldn’t dare think about it. Things never really worked out in his favor, but lately it seemed like his luck was changing. His parents were alive, the sky was bright with the rising sun, Clarke was still alive and safe, and Nathan Miller had kissed him.

“What about it?” Monty asked.

Miller hesitated. He was clearly thinking about his words. “You were right,” he said. “That I need time.” Monty dipped his head in silent agreement. The bubble in his chest was growing. “But I want to go through with it,” Miller added. “If you do, too.”

And just like that, the bubble of doubt popped.

Monty smiled. “You have to ask?” he wondered.

Miller smiled too, sheepishly, and Monty felt privileged to be the one that got to see it.

* * *

 

It took Miller another full month to kiss Monty again.

He was in the hangar working on some blueprints that Raven had left behind, a sort of sonic radar thing that could blow out eardrums (considering they were fighting in a war and Raven had _zero_ chill when it came to it). That was when Miller entered the hangar, his footsteps heavy against the metal ground. Monty’s eyes flickered to the doorway when he entered and he smiled as he normally did when he saw Nathan Miller, but Miller didn’t smile back.

“We just got shot at,” Miller forced out.

Monty looked up again. “What?”

“Pike’s group,” Miller said in a rush of air. “They were shooting at us. _Us_.” Monty forced himself to his feet then and Miller quickly crossed to him. “If I die before I do this again…” Miller’s voice was low, angry, exasperated as he trailed off. And then his hands were cupping Monty’s cheeks and Miller’s lips crashed against his. Monty gasped into Miller’s mouth but he was relentless, kissing him as though he’d already died and never gotten the chance.

Monty wasn’t sure how long they were like that. All he knew is that Miller’s shirt was curling under Monty’s fingertips, that Miller’s lips were chapped and warm, that his hands were rough but gentle against his cheeks. But eventually Miller did pull back and he pinned his forehead to Monty’s.

“Wow,” Monty breathed. “About time.”

Miller’s lips barely pulled into a smile then. “It’s about to get bad,” Miller exhaled.

“It can get bad later,” Monty murmured. He fisted Miller’s shirt and tugged hard, needed to taste his tongue another time. Miller groaned and slid his hands into Monty’s hair, kissing him back fiercely. Like it was the only thing that mattered. This moment. This feeling.

They pulled apart when they heard Bellamy clear his throat. Both boys turned to find Bellamy in the walkway, his hands crossed over his chest and an amused eyebrow arched.

“You two finished?” Bellamy asked.

Monty quickly dropped his hold on Miller but Miller didn’t move away. “Depends on what you need us for,” Miller muttered.

Finally Bellamy’s mouth curved into a smile despite the fact that it was definitely not time for smiles. Not with more fighting and more war on the horizon.

“Raven’s tent in five minutes,” Bellamy said, turning on his heel to leave. “Don’t be late,” he called over his shoulder. “We have to talk strategy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Miller murmured before pulling Monty toward him another time. Bellamy hadn’t even completely left the hangar. “We have a few minutes,” Miller breathed against Monty’s mouth. “I intend to make the most of it.”

“ _Please_ ,” Monty agreed breathlessly.

Monty saw a lot in Miller. He wasn’t exactly sure what Miller saw in _him_ , considering he wasn’t suave or charming like his ex-boyfriend, and he didn’t like coffee, and he couldn’t wrap his mind around a book. But in that moment with Miller kissing him, nothing else mattered.

Nothing else mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I mean, there's about to be a war. But whatever. They'll be fiiiine! As long as they have each other!


End file.
